


The Ghost in the Library

by Bumpkin



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Case Fic, Cold Case - Freeform, JayTim Spooktober, JayTim Week 2020, M/M, ghost character, past non-graphic violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:28:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27203846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumpkin/pseuds/Bumpkin
Summary: What is going on?It didn’t take her long to find out. Her former quarters of the Gotham Public Library — untouched and sealed since she went ‘missing’ — were open, and there were people inside.Hmm, a young man and his older manservant.Who, what, and why are they here? And what are they doing?Oh, this was new and interesting. She wasallfor new and interesting because, frankly, being dead was beyond boring.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Comments: 10
Kudos: 53
Collections: JayTimWeek





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN: A great deal of Yolanda’s opinions and words when arguing with Jason about ‘The Great Gatsby’ are paraphrased from the review of the novel in a review published by the LA Times in 1925 authored by Lillian C. Ford. Link: https://www.latimes.com/books/jacketcopy/la-et-jc-great-gatsby-review-book-1925-20130506-story.html  
> Link to the Atlas Obscura article that gave Tim (me) the idea: https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/inside-the-new-york-public-librarys-last-secret-apartments  
> This fic has been so very helpfully brainstormed and betaed by the wonderful UntoldDepths, dearest Veriatas, and the amazing chibi_nightowl — three very talented authors that you should check out! (Adding here, there is a wonderful latecomer beta who jumped in to help with the heavy lifting of my rewrites after the others were thru, the amazing txbookeater!)

The Ghost of the Library  
By Marns AKA Bumpkin  
Rated T  
Pre-Slash

Chapter 1:

_What’s this?_

Yolanda sensed something different and woke further from the somnolent haze that she’d fallen into more often than not after she went ‘missing’ in 1926. She wasn’t able to leave the library, and most people didn’t want to believe their eyes if they saw her, let alone heard her, so what was the point of wakefulness?

She’d tried so hard after her death to get someone to listen to her, to get the bastards who had her killed brought to justice… but no one had wanted to know what happened to her. Murdered to cover up a crime, disappearing between one day and the next with most of her belongings, and not one person seemed to care. _That certainly had been a bitter pill to swallow._

Of course, not all of her belongings disappeared with her, no— because the murderous thugs doing the cover up wanted some of her baubles for their trouble. _The greedy bastards couldn’t just kill me; they had to rob me too, just to add to the indignity._

Yes, she was still rather sour about it and not shy about saying it. Not that there was anyone around to listen, or who cared to hear. Shaking off the injustices of her past, she cast around to try and ascertain what had caught her attention.

_What is going on?_

It didn’t take her long to find out. Her former quarters in the Gotham Public Library — untouched and sealed since she went ‘missing’ — were open, and there were people inside.

Hmm, a young man and his older manservant. _Who, what, and why are they here? And what are they doing?_ Oh, this was new and interesting. She was _all_ for new and interesting because, frankly, being dead was beyond boring.

She drifted closer and was quietly pleased when she saw that they were refurbishing her old quarters back to their old glory. It had been a sad day when she watched them be boarded up since the librarian hired to replace her hadn’t needed them. She supposed it was just as well the new hire hadn’t needed them; her residing here was what got _her_ killed, after all.

Yolanda was intrigued to see that they weren’t just refurbishing the rooms, but were also adding secret compartments and very carefully camouflaging them. There were other things too that she’d never seen the like of before, things that were decidedly futuristic. Many thin green plaques decorated with lovely gold Vector Art and some colourful blobs scattered here and there — some even seemed to have lights added in too — were being secreted into the walls and other places. _Why would they be doing that? What is the point in hiding the art? Isn’t art meant to be seen?_

Fascinated, she watched, invisible, as the young man and his older manservant worked.

The two men were also adding in other, more modern touches that weren’t hidden. She was particularly taken by the large skylights installed in the ceilings of the main living area and her old kitchen. The way they flooded the rooms with warm sunlight was absolutely lovely, and something she would have loved to have had in place when she was still alive and in residence.

She edged closer to shamelessly eavesdrop. _Maybe they’ll discuss why those art plaques are hiding in the walls, as well as what they’ll do next. Oh, this is so exciting! Although, I do wish I could just read their plans._

Alas, she hadn’t been able to read anything since her death. And for a librarian, that was a fate _worse_ than being dead.

Carefully, as she didn’t want to reveal herself accidently, she drew close enough to overhear what the two men were saying. Just her luck, it was right as they started packing up to leave. And of course it was when the younger of the two was in the middle of a sentence.

 _Argh!_ _I never did have any luck!_

“...kitchen tomorrow? I don’t think we’ll have the time to get started on that today, not if we want to do the room I planned justice.”

_Drats! Nothing about the hidden spaces and what any of that other stuff was._

“Very good, Master Tim. Shall we aim to arrive at the crack of noon?”

 _Crack of noon?_ _Who gets up at noon? Unless they work at night?_

The younger one, Tim, chuckled. “Yeah, crack of noon sounds about right, Alfred. It’s just too bad that the late time won’t be because I’ll be paying back my sleep debt. I have three meetings scheduled in the morning, all before 11am.”

 _Ah, that makes more sense_ ; she thought. It’s not that their day was starting at noon, but because he had to work around previous commitments. _Though, he seems to be a bit young to be a businessman? I suppose he could be older than he looks. Or else, things really have changed when I wasn’t paying attention._

“Alas, the perils of being a responsible and successful businessman,” Alfred replied drolly. “However do you cope?”

Tim rolled his eyes and made a sour face, but didn’t bother replying to that sally as he led the way out the door.

Yolanda was decidedly amused at the byplay. The older manservant certainly didn’t behave as such while the younger man wasn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty. Renovating her home was hard work. _I wish I’d woken up sooner. Now I have to wait until tomorrow to find out what on earth is going on!_

She grumpily settled down to wait. _There is no way I’m missing them this time!_.

* * *

The next day, it was later than noon when they returned and Yolanda was a bit miffed. _I’ve been stuck just hanging around this damn library for so long with nothing going on that waiting for them to come back felt like an eternity. I suppose I’ll forgive them the delay,_ she thought as she eagerly listened to the two speak. _I do so hope that they finally talk about what I want to know!_

Alfred was in mid-sentence when they arrived as they had obviously been chatting on their way up. “...say, this is a wonderful thing you are doing for Master Jason. I think when we show him that he’ll be very happy indeed.”

“I hope so, Alfred.” Tim’s voice when answering was completely level, but there was an expression on his face that had Yolanda very interested. It was almost wistful, and reminded her of the expressions she had seen on some of her old classmates when they got the news that their sweethearts were coming back from the front. His next words confirmed her thoughts. “Jason has always loved the library, so when I realized these rooms were just sitting empty, I thought it would be a great place to convert for his use.”

Alfred hummed in happy agreement while he set out some rather large papers. Blueprints? “Whatever gave you the idea to do this? You never did tell me when you asked for my assistance and silence.”

Tim joined him at the table and shuffled the papers so that one in particular sat on top. Due to the conversation they’d had before leaving the night before, Yolanda guessed it was their plans for the kitchen. Her guess was confirmed when they gathered plumbing and carpentry tools.

_Well, I suppose they could have been for the bathroom, but seeing as they were now heading in the direction of the kitchen, I know I’m right._

She followed, curious about both their conversation, and what they planned to do to her kitchen that was going to take the whole day to do.

Tim, meanwhile, was finally answering the older man. “Oh, it was an atlas obscura article about how New York had thirteen lost and secret apartments in their libraries. I did some digging and found out that this one was still here and empty after the last tenant ‘mysteriously up and disappeared’.”

_He’s talking about me? Did he find anything on Grady? Does he know who I was?_

The questions raced through her non-existent head as Tim continued talking. “I thought this would be the perfect place to set up a safehouse for Jason, the not-so-closeted bibliophile that he is.”

Alfred chuckled in what appeared to be agreement, then gave Tim a curious glance. “The missing occupant? Did you perchance figure out what happened there?”

_Does he know what happened to me? Am I finally going to get justice?_

“Absolutely nothing,” Tim said with disgust. “Gotham was bad when Bruce started out as Batman, but in the Roaring Twenties it was so much worse. Just-” His voice trailed off into an incoherent sound of disgust.

Yolanda felt a crushing disappointment— _He doesn’t know. I guess I should have known. The details of my death would’ve been buried and hidden as much as my body was made to disappear._

She did however heartily agree with his disproving sentiment of how bad things were back when she lived and died. _Grady and his cronies on the city council were rotten to the core. And they sure as hell were quick to cover their tracks whenever they got up to no good, which was pretty much always— the dirty bastards._

The conversation between the two men petered out as they’d reached the kitchen.

Yolanda invisibly floated along right at their heels, somber as she remembered past misdeeds she had been witness to, before and after her death. Misdeeds she had tried so hard to inform people about, but no one wanted to listen. That still burned.

When she came back to herself from her little jaunt down memory lane and joined the two again, she looked around. She tried to see the space with fresh eyes, but for her it was still just her old kitchen. Her old ice-box, tucked in between the two windows, was looking a lot rougher than she remembered, but the rest was just as she had left it— albeit a lot dirtier.

The large cast iron enameled sink with the built-in drainage counters was still bolted securely to the one wall. Her small workstation, that she had bought soon after getting the job as Librarian, was tucked into the corner a few paces down from the sink. And the large double oven gas stove — she had been so proud of it and a true indulgence — occupied the wall opposite from the sink, bracketed by her pantry and her specially built-in cupboard. She had to admit the cupboard doors hadn’t weathered that well, but what she could see of the rest, had held up decently enough.

The two men split up, with Tim heading for the stove and Alfred the sink.

“Do you think we can retrofit this to get it up to code, Alfred?” Tim asked as he inspected the stove. “It would be a shame to have to get rid of this old beauty.”

Alfred finished what he was doing by the sink and joined Tim, casting an admiring look over the appliance. “Oh, that is a beauty! It would be a shame if we couldn’t, wouldn’t it?”

Yolanda preened as the two men admired the stove.

“Yep, so what do you think? Can we retrofit it?”

“I don’t see why not, and frankly it will probably be easier than replumbing the sink. It’s as we feared; the pipes are all still lead.”

Tim groaned and sagged in place. “Really? Crap.”

_Lead pipes are bad? Why?_

“There, there.” Alfred patted the younger man soothingly on the back. “Just keep in mind how much Jason is going to love this place when we are done with it.” His gaze skipped over to the old ice-box. “Although, how we are going to get a refrigerator up here with no-one the wiser is probably the more important question we should be asking ourselves”

Tim joined him in looking at the old ice-box. “Yeah, that’s going to be tricky.” He rolled his eyes, but then seemed to have a thought and began muttering mostly to himself. "Although I suppose I could convince Kon to help..." He trailed off and whatever else he was thinking was lost to her as it stayed in his head. Ah well, she supposed she'd find out later if it happened.

“You’ll figure out a way; I have faith in your ingenuity.” Alfred said brightly, and Yolanda had a hard time suppressing her laughter. _Oh my, the pure cheek of how he’s poking fun at Tim is certainly a delight._

Tim’s reply was dry as dust. “Thanks, Alfred. Your faith in me is heartwarming.”

Yolanda burbled. Mortified with her loss of control, she began to sink into the floor. _Oh why did ectoplasm have to be so embarrassing and dang hard to control?_

Interestingly, both Tim and Alfred were now looking around, alert. It was almost like they’d heard her. _But that was impossible, wasn’t it?_ Nobody ever heard her. Well, not unless she wanted them to...

 _Who_ are _these two men?_ _What was up with all the secret hidey holes? Why did they need to make a safehouse for this Jason they kept talking about?_ So many questions rattled around where her brain should be— and nary an answer in sight. _I have a feeling that if I were able to leave the library, or read anything, that I wouldn’t have nearly as many questions, but I can't do either so…_

Her frustration and introspection hadn’t distracted her from paying attention to her guests and her curiosity was only ramped higher as they spoke between themselves, because they weren’t following the pattern she was used to. They weren’t dismissing the sound like so many others had and did over the years— _What?_ Oh, and they continued working, but the retrofits were a lot less interesting to her than the conversation.

“You heard that too right?” Tim was asking Alfred in a concerned voice.

“Yes, Master Tim, I did. It sounded rather like a woman’s laugh.”

“Huh.” Tim looked around quickly. “We’re alone here, aren’t we?”

“I do believe so, but perhaps there’s a vent or shaft leading into the library proper that carries noise?”

Tim frowned. “If that’s the case, it could work in the other direction as well.”

“Yes,” Alfred said dryly. “I guess it’s a good thing we have the blueprints handy.”

“Yes, I’ll check them again.”

“Very good.” Then Alfred shifted topics. “So, you never did tell me earlier and I can’t help but be curious, Master Tim.” He continued to pry, genteely, into Tim’s motivations. “With the rocky relationship you and Master Jason have, why would you think to do all of this for him?”

Tim’s ear tips went pink and a light blush settled over his cheekbones. His voice remained even as he blatantly evaded the older man’s question by redirecting the conversation back to what they still had to do. “It’s safe to assume the bathroom still has the old lead pipes too. We should probably work on those two things before we do anything else.”

Alfred allowed him the escape, but Yolanda could tell the older man wasn’t going to let it go. _He reminds me entirely too much of old Auntie Mae. The woman hadn’t ever met a personal issue that she didn’t want to pry into. Not maliciously. She only ever had everyone else’s best interest in mind, but it was still a pain to those on the receiving end._

 _What I don’t understand is why Tim is so adamant about evading the question?_.

 _Although_ , from the expression that she had seen earlier — and that adorable little blush — _I have a feeling I know part of the why._ She had known a few men when she was still alive who’d cared more for their fellow man than had been proper, but even confined to the library, she’d seen how men keeping other men company wasn’t the taboo it was in her day.

_Why is Tim so reticent about admitting to it? What am I missing?_

_Is there perhaps more to his evasion than just being a man who loves another man? Is it because it’s Alfred who asked? Or is there some other reason that’s holding him back? Perhaps there’s more to this Jason than I’ve heard them speak of so far. Alfred certainly implied that they have some type of tumultuous history together, or a 'rocky relationship’ as he so neatly put it._

_Gracious, this was exciting!_

She was eager to meet this Jason they spoke of, and to hear more of this curious little mystery— she hadn't felt this intrigued in _years._

Happily looking forward to the future again, she settled in to continue watching the two men work and pick up little tidbits about them both. _Although, I have to admit, I’m more than a little little frustrated that they aren’t talking about the things I want answers for the most— what is up with all the hidden things?!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much thanks again to chibi_nightowl, Veriatas, and txbookeater!

“I’m here,” Jason called out quietly when he got to the roof of the old Gotham Public Library. Fond feelings for the place always rippled through him whenever he was near it, and this time was no different. The place had been a haven to him before Catherine Todd died, and then continued to be one afterwards when he was living on the streets. _I can’t even begin to count the hours I spent here, escaping my shitty life._

But he wasn’t here to reminisce fondly about his past— he was here because he’d been called. “Alfred? Tim?”

“Hey.” Tim oozed out from somewhere and Jason forced himself to not react outwardly while inwardly mentally cursing. _Shit! How was the little creeper so good at that?_

The answer of course was lots and lots of practice — it was something he’d found out about him when the pit rage had eased and he’d stopped trying to kill the kid constantly — Tim was disturbingly adept at not being seen. Freakishly so. _I know we’re not exactly friendly, but I can at least credit the kid’s stalker abilities now. Unlike before…_ .

He internally winced at how much he’d denigrated the kid thanks to the bad intel he’d gotten when fresh out of the pit. That and how much he’d hated the idea of there being another Robin after it had got him killed. Needless to say, it had been a bad situation all around and he was still wary whenever he had to interact with Tim now.

 _I think I can be excused for being a little wary. Especially since Tim’s shaking like he’s either high or in desperate need of his next caffeine fix._

Another thing that he’d learned after the influence of the pit faded was that the kid was pretty damn good at controlling his emotions— at least outwardly where anyone could see. Although, this didn’t seem to be due to anything bad, not when the kid flashed a very bright and nervous quicksilver smile at him. 

“Alfred and I have something to show you. Follow me.”

Jason shrugged and did just that. _With Alfred involved, I suppose it’s safe enough. Probably._

* * *

When Alfred had contacted him earlier and asked him to come down to the old library to meet him and Tim, he’d thought that it was just Alfred playing peacemaker again. 

Except no. 

The summons was a surprise handoff of a fully equipped safehouse, revamped with him in mind, that only the three of them knew about. Alfred had even tried to hint pretty heavily that he was only the ‘help’ in their doing this for him. The older man had suggested very strongly that the majority of the idea and work for the safehouse had been Tim’s brainchild. 

_Yeah, right._ Jason didn’t believe that for a second. It was just too mind boggling and unlikely.

Tim and Alfred had left after giving him a tour, complete with the history of the place, and the keys to his shiny new safehouse. 

Jason was still reeling. He honestly didn’t know what to think at the moment. 

Well, besides ‘What the hell?’ Because holy shit, that sentiment was certainly ringing through loud and clear. Being gifted a whole freaking safehouse — with a connected bunker underground in an old unused subway station — was just way too much for a gift from _anyone,_ let alone from his adopted grandpa and the kid who he’d nearly beaten to death more than once for replacing him.

 _Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected anything remotely like this!_ _Holy fuck, you could knock me over with a feather right about now._

He did his best to shake off the shock and started to explore his shiny new digs. Yeah, he’d gotten the dollar tour — one that included all the bells and whistles of Bat-type stuff — but you never really got as much out of that kind of thing as you did when you went exploring yourself. 

He poked into all the nooks and crannies they’d built for his gear and was impressed. _Damn, they really made certain that it’s all done up how I personally like things, didn’t they?_ He was actually a bit surprised at how well-thought out their choices were for setting up his stashes throughout the apartment, and how they hadn’t balked at the concessions needed for his choice of weaponry. _Hell, in some cases this is better than what I usually use._

Although, it wasn’t fair of him to tar them with the brush of ‘Bat’-based sanctity. Both of them had butted heads with Bruce more than once on the matter of his rock-solid line in the sand— Alfred with his refusal to give up his shotgun and Tim with that little maze of choices for Boomerang.

 _Huh, I never realized just how much I had in common with those two until now_ … He pushed that little thought back to the back of his mind to ponder later and kept looking around. 

The kitchen was stunning with so many of the original details preserved. The antique enameled gas stove alone was one hell of a showstopper. A quick perusal of the cupboards had him smiling happily and thanking the world for one Alfred Pennyworth, because he was fully stocked. His gaze caught on the newest-looking thing in the room, a large double door fridge. _Jeezus, I wonder how they got that up here and into the place without anyone noticing— that must have been a bitch and a half._

Bathroom was pretty standard for any of the Bats, decently high end but not stupid about it. 

His new living room was very nice. The view through the massive skylights would be amazing anywhere that wasn’t Gotham. _Although Gotham_ did _have its own kind of beauty,_ he thought as he watched the ever-present smog that overlaid the city eddy and swell. 

The old dumbwaiter shaft being made into his own personal express elevator between the apartment, the roof, and the revamped subway station was pure genius in and of itself. He couldn’t resist taking it for a test drive— or two. _Whatever, it was fun._

He checked out his new master bedroom, tucked in the back, and was surprised to find it was soothingly decorated with furniture that he remembered admiring when it was stored in one of the attics of Wayne Manor. _Fuck, I can’t believe the old man remembered how much I liked the set._ He’d only seen it because he had helped Alfred put some stuff into storage back during his Robin days. He chuckled as he saw that they had made certain the curtains were the essential black-out type. 

At the other end of the apartment from the master bedroom were the two final rooms. The furthest from the master was a generic guest bedroom, but the other had him gaping in something very close to awe. 

_My very own personal library within a library… fucking A!_

Every single room of the apartment so far has had some bookshelves, but this room… it was wall to wall bookshelves. Well, aside from the gorgeous antique desk and two well-stuffed chairs bracketing a small table. It was glorious. 

What made it even better was that these shelves were positively packed with books. 

Jason itched to dive in, but he held back long enough to make a quick detour to his new kitchen to make himself a nice pot of tea to take with him before he lost himself to the temptation. 

Tea made and deposited on the handy little table, he began to scan the shelves for a book to read. His eyes lingered on the collection of Jane Austen novels, but tucked up next to them was another book he’d been meaning to read for a while and hadn’t yet found the time to get around to it. 

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. 

_Well, no time like the present to get started catching up._

He pulled the old hardcover off the shelf and wandered back to one of the very comfortable overstuffed chairs. He settled in to have a nice long uninterrupted read. 

_God, it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to indulge, not since I was still living in the Manor and prancing around in the short pants I inherited from Dick._

He hadn’t had the chance at all since he’d come back and started running around as the Red Hood. Mostly because when he really got into a book, he would argue with it out loud. Not exactly a good idea to do that when anyone else could hear him, as it ruined the image he had so painstakingly built for himself. 

_I haven’t quite got my reputation to the point where such idiosyncrasies would be more threatening to those watching than damaging to my image_. So, naturally, he refrained from reading books where anyone could see or hear him.

But now, nobody else was around and he could relax and enjoy himself. _And if that means I yell at imaginary characters, then so be it._


End file.
